Midnight Margaritas
by QuicksilverWitch
Summary: Dr. Grant, Jo, and margaritas on Adult Night at Café Diem—Jack just knew this wouldn't end well if the look on Zane's face said anything about it.


**DISCLAIMER:****I DO NOT, IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM, CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF EUREKA, ITS CHARACTERS, OR ITS SUBSIDIES. THIS IS PURE IMAGINATION/FAN WRITTEN FICTION.**

**Author's Note:** Takes place sometime between "Stoned" and "I'll Be Seeing You"; inspiration comes from something Fargo mentioned early on in Season 4, that Julia had never been interested in him. And if she hadn't, that means no Jo-body snatching, and no Eureka witnessing her sultry red-dress side…until now! ^_~ 3

Also, the part with the asterisk can be found here: http:/ www. alpha dictionary .com /fun /hell. html

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**Midnight Margaritas**

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If a man gets jilted by a possible beau, a very inebriated Dr. "Charles" Grant mused to himself, then it was perfectly understandable, nay, logical, for said man to get drunk off his ass until he accepted the situation.

Such was his position that Saturday night at the bar of Café Diem, when children and teens were banned from the café for adults only karaoke and dancing night.

Fascinated by the musical developments that had occurred since his own time, Charles had deigned to come if only to keep himself from being sequestered in his unfamiliar apartment in this strange and wonderful unfamiliar world. Taking a hearty gulp of his two-finger whiskey, he idly noticed that Donovan fellow enter with Jack's daughter on his arm.

_Poor Jo,_ he thought idly, noticing how she pointedly avoided staring at the happy couple from her view at the Deacons, Jack, and Allison's table, instead focusing her gaze on the empty glass that had held her margarita.

_She must be so heartbroken that the man she'd almost married is gallivanting off with another girl on his arm…we're a matching pair of broken hearts, _he dramatized romantically.

_In fact…why not…she's a good lookin' gal and we always had easy conversation…why not…_

Ordering two of Vincent's margaritas, he picked both up and carried them over, placing them on the table in front of himself and Jo.

"Hey, Jo; noticed you'd run out of the special this fine evening. Care to join me?" he smiled warmly.

"Um, sure. Why not?"

_Why not, _she asked herself, _Zane's enjoying Zoe's company just fine…even if I can't expect him to remember our relationship…is it fair that I shouldn't have some fun once in a while? Life's too short for regrets; at least that part of what I told Zoe was true…_

Picking up her new drink and saying goodbye to her already preoccupied friends, she joined Grant back at the bar, appreciative of some singles company.

"So," Grant said with a smooth smile as he lifted his glass in a toast, "what should we toast to, pretty lady?"

Smiling appreciatively of his 1940s gentlemanly manner, a running joke amongst her and the other travelers, Jo lifted her own in return, a small smile blooming on her face.

"To new beginnings, Dr. Grant," she said, affecting an old Hollywood accent.

"To new beginnings," he agreed, taking a long pull of his drink.

For a while, they chatted about idle topics, from Grant's experiences and adjustments to the future, as well as a few anecdotes from their respective childhoods. Around them, people sang and danced, a few taking note of the cozy looking duo at the bar, who seemed to be all smiles and laughter as time flew by.

"Now, I'd had him before, so when I heard about the topic, I reminded him of Teresa, which led to him writing in his conclusion—wait for it—"If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my Freshman year that, "it will be a cold day in Hell before I go out with you", and take into account the fact that I went out with her last night, then number 2 must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct . . . leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God.""*

Grant and Jo were bent over their drinks, laughing hysterically.

"Teresa never forgave him for that," Jo reminisced fondly after calming down a little, her face flushed and split by a goofy grin, "and my friend Daria never let her live it down when she found out Ian had gotten the only A. We were shameless."

Laughter renewed, Grant was glad he'd asked Jo to have a drink with him; he'd never realized she could be this much fun!

"I haven't had this much fun in ages," he let her know, clinking their latest drinks—him a simple whiskey, hers a black cherry vodka and coke—together.

Pulling their shot glasses back, they sighed, turning to face the dance floor where Dr. Roberts from Aeronautics was singing a particularly rousing version of "Mamma Mia!"

Smile fading into a wistful expression, Jo's hands unconsciously went to her neck where the chain her engagement ring rested beneath her black sundress.

Once again, Grant was reminded of her situation; the gentleman in him lamented that such a pretty woman should never be left in distress, even if she could break him in two as easily as a pencil.

"Hey Vinny," he called over to the bartender and chef, who came over to the evening's most attentive patrons excitedly.

"What can I do you for, Dr. Grant?" he smiled winsomely.

"Say, I was wondering; can I request a song? Such a beautiful woman as Jo should get in at least one dance this evening," Grant whispered to him conspiringly, causing the gourmand to grin in excitement.

"Oh yes! Yes, whatever you want, just let me know and I'll put it on next for my two best customers of the night!"

"Do you by any chance have…"

From across the room, Zane Donovan, arms crossed over his broad chest, couldn't stop glancing toward the bar where Lupo and Grant had been laughing and drinking for half the night. Back against the wall as he sat by Zoe, Pilar, and a few of the younger scientists, he wondered what the two were saying to each other that had Lupo laughing and smiling more than he'd seen in the last two years he'd been in Eureka.

He'd been glancing their way all night, ever since he'd seen Grant place one of the two drinks down in front of her at Carter's table.

_What's he have that I don't?_ He bristled, a little jealous.

Lupo had really changed in the last two months, ever since Founder's Day. And he'd been keeping tabs on her, Grant, Fargo, the Deacons and Carter, all of whom had also started behaving suspiciously since then.

Nicer. A little tense and melancholy at times, but nicer.

Like Lupo. He'd even begun enjoying their banter. In fact, spending time with her, even if most of it was at work, had gotten his hopes up that unlike two years ago, they could be friends…

But seeing Dr. Old Spice, (as Carter liked to call him; and suddenly Zane felt inclined to agree with him), so close to Lupo, was making his brain jump to forbidden territory.

A few months ago, he'd thought starting something with Zoe would be fun; and it was, for the most part. But none of the times he'd seen or heard her mention other guys had done _this—_whatever _this _was—to him.

In fact, a remote part of his mind snarled when he saw him offer a hand to Lupo and escort her onto the floor as a new song started, Grant could use a good punch to that perfect aquiline nose of his—

"Ohmigod, _Jo!_" He dimly heard Zoe shriek in shock and excitement.

Drums and trumpet blared over the state of the art sound system as the AutoWardrobe switched out Lupo and Grant's outfit for a red evening gown with a high slit and a charcoal pinstriped suit.

Zane felt his mouth go dry; Lupo had _never_ in his memory, bore that much skin before. And what lovely caramel skin it was, making him wonder if it was just as sweet…

"Hey, isn't that the same song from _The Mask?_" he heard Carter ask Fargo, tonight's DJ.

"_Oh yeah._ I swear, if I had the same je ne sais quoi Grant had, I'd totally be out there with a smoking hot—"

"_TMI, Fargo!"_ he heard Grace Deacon laugh heartily.

He had to admit, Grant was an excellent dancer, and so was Lupo; with all that army training of hers, her hand-eye coordination and muscle control had to be perfect.

A tan leg curled around Grant's hip as he bent her backward, hair sweeping the floor, arm arched over her head, emphasizing the line of her waist and bust. For a moment, Zane fervently wished they'd been his hips her leg was wound about.

With a jerk, Lupo was unwrapped and twirled away from the historian, who laughed and smiled gaily at his partner's enjoyment. Around them, the crowd smiled and laughed in pleasant surprise that the usually somber, emotionless head of GD security could be so relaxed and carefree…and yet, the longer Grant twirled her around the floor in flashy swing moves, the more infuriated Zane became, not with her, but with _him_.

The music ended with an elaborate flourish, Grant bent down toward Lupo, one arm holding her magnificent legs in an upward position as the other hand rested low on her waist, one of her arms wrapped around his neck while the other arched toward the floor. Zane's mouth tightened, eyes flashing.

"Oh wow, I never knew Jo could dance like that—_and with Dr. Grant!_ What do you think, Pilar, is romance brewing for Jo at last?" Zoe inquired with great enthusiasm, further stoking Zane's ire with her happiness for her friend.

"Hey, Zoe, I'll see you later, kay? I'm gonna turn in; I don't feel so good," he said tightly after watching them for a while, pushing himself away from the wall and stalking angrily toward the front door.

"What? Zane, wait? Zane!" his date called after him in confusion, trading shocked and confused looks with Pilar and her friends.

Grant and Lupo had disappeared from his sight, making his anger and confusion rise even more. That no good historian with the murky past still got on his nerves; his files were too perfect to be real, and he'd been tracking them since Jo had asked him to hack the Pentagon, gathering evidence to use against him in case he proved to be a risk to the only home he knew.

_Home._

Without warning, his subconscious produced an image of Lupo in a white strapless sundress, hair cascading in waves down her back, make up accentuating her dark eyes and tan skin.

Shaking off the image, he continued walking toward the sky cruiser he'd once again liberated from GD's labs for the night—Carter was still at the café, so Zoe could easily catch a ride home—he jammed a helmet on his head, determine to ride off his aggression and ire.

His head turned back briefly, giving him a glimpse of Lupo and Grant, hanging off each other and laughing gaily, once again in their original clothes.

Unbidden, the image of a naked Lupo and unknown masculine figure (presumably Grant), swathed in sheets as they kissed and touched flashed across his vision.

Tugging off his helmet angrily, his face dark and foreboding as he threw it to the ground beside the cruiser, his fist connected with Grant's perfect nose before he snapped out of it and realized what was happening.

"ZANE! GRANT! Stop it!" he heard Lupo cry distantly as he felt Grant's response to his attack catch him in the stomach. Grinning ferally when he barely felt the blow through his muscular stomach, he tripped Grant up, sending him to the ground again as lithe, strong arms pulled him off Grant.

"Jo, get Zane home; I'm giving you a warning and a fine, Donovan, since you've exhibited pretty decent behavior recently," Carter's voice said sharply as he and Blake ushered the historian toward her car in order to access her first aid kit.

Head swimming as he felt Lupo lead him away, he unconsciously wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer than necessary. As she led him over to her own blue car and opened the passenger door for him to sit down while she got out her own emergency kit, he absently noted that his right eye was swelling a little and felt tender, while his face felt like one big bruise. Grant hadn't gone down without a fight, he mused with some appreciation.

Studying Lupo…Jo…in detail, made him forget that, though.

Hair in disarray from her exciting dance with Grant and her attempts to yank Zane away from her friend, she looked lovelier than he'd ever seen her, her black dress accentuating her shoulders, bust, and waist almost as well as the red one had.

Strong hands he was used to feeling rough as they cuffed him dabbed gently at his face with an alcohol swab as Jo attempted to clean him up, her fingers absently trailing over his scruffy cheeks as they took in his cuts and bruises.

Catching a calloused hand in one of his own before she could pull it away, he used it as leverage to draw her in close, other hand rising to guide her face closer to his. Kissing her deeply and almost keeling over in euphoria when he felt her begin to respond enthusiastically, he shifted his position until he was leaning comfortably against the passenger seat, her body draped over his.

It lasted for a good ten minutes until she pulled away, horrified that she'd lost control of her emotions. Between the drinks, the high spirits Grant had inspired in her between their jokes and dancing, and Zane, who'd seemingly punched him for touching her, like her Zane might've done once in another universe…

Clearing her throat as she withdrew, she didn't expect him to yank her back, her hands flying to his chest in order to brace herself.

"Zane," she attempted to pacify him, attempting to pull away again.

"Stop trying to pull away from me, Jo," he said, his free hand sliding from her neck to tuck a few stray hairs behind her ear, eyes searching her face, the liquor and endorphins keeping her from closing up on him.

"Zane—"

"I don't know what's going on with you, Carter, and the others, but I just freaked out and wailed on Old Spice for touching you, _and I have no fracking clue why._ All I know is, that seeing you with him, pissed me off more than I can say, and I'm a pretty level headed guy—oh, don't give me that look," he said in irritation when she raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief; but she hadn't pulled away, and he secretly relished the feel of her curves against him.

As if they felt _so right._

"I'm a pretty level-headed guy, Jo; so why did I freak out when I saw you laughing and dancing with him?"

_Why does it feel as if we've kissed and done this a thousand times before, when we could barely stand each other up until recently?_

She wouldn't look at him; he didn't like that. Using the hand near her face to tilt her chin toward him, he leaned in and kissed her again, the hairs on the nape of his neck standing on end from the sheer heat he felt them radiate.

"Tell me," he breathed, shifting her in his arms a bit, "Please…Josefina…"

Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, lips pursed together tightly in distress.

"You have no idea how much I want to," she lamented quietly, "but if I did…the consequences could be…dire, to put it succinctly…"

"_How_ dire?"

"As in, sanctioned," she stated bluntly, trying to pull away from him again. A brief struggle ensued, but for once, he had her locked against him.

"When the hell did you get so strong?" she demanded cantankerously, trying to alleviate the pressure of her chest against his.

"Hey, time flies when you're trying to impress the head of GD security," he joked weakly, wincing when his grin jostled the bruised tissue on his cheek and lip, "and frankly, Scarlet, I don't give a damn; when have you ever known me to respect the law more than my curiosity—" he stopped talking and grimaced when he felt something dig into his chest through her bodice.

"—what _is _that in there, anyway? It kinda feels like—"

_A ring._

Paling at the thought of her with someone else_ again_, he fought with her briefly as he struggled with her to get the ring out of her dress. She had almost fended him off, only to succeed in changing their positions until she was straddling his thighs, forcing him to grab her by the hips and for her to support herself by grabbing his broad shoulders. She blanched when, irony of ironies, the ring fell out by itself anyway due to her twisting and turning.

Staring at his Grandmother's engagement ring, Zane felt several puzzle pieces come together.

_"Yes, Zane. I will marry you."_

_ "Me? Marry you? __**In what universe?**__" _

"_I…don't get it. You love busting me. You've busted me tons of times. Why d'you give a crap now?"_

"_Because you don't have to be that guy."_

_Because she'd _**seen him not be "that guy."**

For all his brilliance, Zane felt as if his brain were a hamster that had suddenly stopped running on its wheel.

Because the implication that he, Zane Donovan, King of Anti-Commitment, had been enamored of Josefina Lupo to the extent that he had proposed to her, _with his grandmother's engagement ring,_ was simply mind blowing.

"My Grandmother's engagement ring," he said softly, a half smile on his face. "You really are out of this world, figuratively and literally, Lupo," he said before breaking into laughter.

"What's so funny?" Jo asked warily, attempting to move away again, only to be stopped yet _again_. "Damnit, Zane, cut that out!"

Jo's face fell, dread filling her heart. _So he thinks this is funny,_ she seethed, _he hates me so much, even after we've become more civil with each other, that the prospect of marrying me is humorous. THEN WHY THE HELL DID HE KISS ME!_

Adrenaline coursing through her system, she struggled harder, jostling his bruised stomach.

"Hey! Calm down, Jo-Jo," He warned, wincing when she accidentally hit him again.

"Why should I? _In what universe?_ Remember?"

"But I didn't know about all this," he defended himself adamantly, "and for the record, your evil twin turned me down after a screwed up date at Café Diem, and after that, as far as I knew, hated my guts. What was I supposed to think when you said that?"

She knew it was unfair, but it didn't stop it from hurting all the same.

"Look," Zane started softly, caressing her arms as he spoke, "I don't know what the other me was like or did differently that led to you having that; but that doesn't mean we're not the same person. Because, you know, scientifically we actually are. Anyway,"

"Zane," Jo reminded him with a soft smile, "you're babbling."

Shooting her a challenging look, he pinched her side, making her jump and fall toward him a little more.

"Hey!"

"All's fair in love and war, Jo-Jo…" he grinned at her impishly before becoming serious again. "Why didn't you tell me about all this?"

Jo grimaced, pulling away from his shoulders, only for his to catch them and intertwine their fingers.

"Would you have believed me?" she said at last, "I mean, the entire thing sounds so ridiculous! 'Hey, guess what? An accident pulled me back in time, and when I came back, everything was different, but hey, we were dating and almost engaged, so let's pick up from there, shall we?'" Jo pantomimed sarcastically.

"Besides, no matter how intrinsically similar you are, you're still you—and you should get to have that. It's not my place, no matter how in love we were, to force you into a role that you could potentially come to resent. You'd never know if I was thinking of you, or him."

Zane regarded her silently, eyes searching hers to see if she truly believed that.

"Well," he said brightly, "you're certainly the better half of us; if it'd been you, you wouldn't have had a choice."

"…wait, what?"

"I'm just saying; had I been in your shoes, you wouldn't have had a choice. I'd have kept fighting for you. Because I loved you."

"Just because I'm not trying to jump you, doesn't mean I don't—"

"Not saying it doesn't; just shows that you're the type to let 'em go when you think they can do better. And I have a feeling I know why. Tell me something, if I wasn't dating little Carter, would you still be trying to get away from me? Five bucks says it's no."

Jo sucked in a calming breath. "Maybe…but I've seen you two together. You really like her, don't you? You're attracted to her and think of kissing her. Of spending time alone with her. I know you, or at least some part of you. Don't deny it."

"Don't have to. She's good lookin', I can agree with you there. And she's fun to spend time with. But don't kid yourself if you think I'd take a girl who's way into rebound over her last boyfriend over you."

"…that was _so_ corny."

"…oh sue me, Lupo."

"You're really in touch with your inner romantic today, aren't you?"

"Maybe _you're_ just not romantic enough."

"Well, maybe—Mmmphh."

Cutting her off with a kiss again, Zane scootched her closer to his hips, relishing how they felt straddling his lap. Breaking away to take in her flushed face, he pulled the door to the car closed, killing the overhead light and surrounding them in darkness, flicking the locks shut.

"Jo-Jo…just give me a chance. Just one. Preferably starting now, so we can make with the smooches."

Smiling at him even as she shot him a chiding look, she let it drop, tentatively wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I just don't want to lose two people who mean the world to me, Zane; even if you are a snarky horn dog."

"And you won't, you sarcastic Ice Queen. Now shaddup and let me kiss you. Do you know how much it _killed_ me to see you in that red dress with those shoes?" Zane leered, "You've got _killer legs, _Josefina."

Jo groaned in disbelief before grabbing his face, "Just—kiss me, you bast—"

Complying heartily, Zane mused how life never seemed to be boring with Lupo around, even when she had been busting his ass all the time. Pulling the lever on the side so the seat they were on was parallel to the ground, he brought his hands to her lithe body again, relishing the heat and friction generated between the two of them.

_We don't fit together as two halves—we're two anomalies resonating with each other perfectly._


End file.
